


Pah'choko-to'vt

by Zemmiphobia



Series: Fools Rush In [1]
Category: The Lone Ranger (2013)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 20:09:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2824625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zemmiphobia/pseuds/Zemmiphobia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the road to true friendship is paved with mistakes and humor. A series of Tonto's memories as he and John learn to be friends. No slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pah'choko-to'vt

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to pretend its pre-slash, if you like.

Tonto never expected his life to turn out this way. Granted, he had never expected to live past avenging his tribe, but not even in his craziest moments would he have expected to be traveling with a tuinéhpua out in the middle of nowhere, with no goals and no direction. He slid his gaze from the fire to John, sitting across the camp from him, talking to his crazy horse. Even now, the boy's hands were smooth, his face unlined, and his smile innocent. Tonto wondered darkly how long it would take before those hands were as hard as leather, his skin as dark as his own, and that grin buried in the Texas sand. Tonto watched John stretch and run a hand through his hair before curling up inside his bedroll.  
“Goodnight, Tonto.” John said, sounding very much like the sleepy child he was. Tonto grunted irritably and the younger man slipped easily into his dreams. Tonto watched him enviously for a moment and then stared back into the fire. He had never felt so old.  
Tonto fed Pécui and pondered the boy in front of him. From the few things he had gleaned, John was at least ten years younger than him, trained in nothing useful, and able to read. The last bit was perhaps the most interesting, Tonto had often wondered what it would be like to understand the letters he saw on bottles and papers, but it had been unnecessary for the life he lived. Perhaps now was the time to learn. The more Tonto thought about this, the more he liked the idea. A trade. He liked trades and this would be a good one. He would teach the boy to survive and John would teach him to read. It was perfect.

000Lucky Shot000

“You want to learn to read?” John asked, incredulous. He didn't have to look so surprised, Tonto grumbled to himself.  
“Yes.” He said instead. “You read, I hunt. Trade.”  
“A trade? Like you teach me, I teach you?” Tonto nodded once. “But I already know how to hunt!” John said, waving his gun like a flag. Tonto didn't speak, he simply took the gun, shot into the sky and waited until a pheasant dropped heavily to the ground. It was a lucky shot, but John didn't have to know that. They both stared at the bird for a moment in silence.  
“Alright. It's a deal.”  
Tonto smiled.

000Singing Dogs000

Tonto was sure he was going to kill John. If the boy sung that stupid song one more time, he wasn't going to be responsible for his actions.  
“Come on, Tonto, stop sulking!” John wheedled, pointing his stick at the letters he had made in the sand. “Sing it with me.” He instructed.  
Tonto looked down at the lines and glared for all he was worth.  
“Stupid song.” He muttered, mostly to himself. John sighed and dropped the stick.  
“If you really don't want to learn, you don't have to.” Said the ranger sadly. Tonto glanced up into John's hurt eyes and grimaced. John dropped his gaze and sighed again. Tonto tried to hold out, he really did but he knew a losing battle when he saw one. Praying that his ancestors were not watching, he picked up the stick and began again.  
“A,b,c...”

000Straight Shooter000

John knew the basics of shooting, Tonto would admit that. He had been fairly handy on the train and his lucky shot at the farm had been impressive, but when it came down to it John absolutely failed at hitting anything.  
“The rock, Kee-mo-sah-bee , the rock.” Tonto stressed in what he felt was a very patient voice. John glared at the older man and cocked the gun again. He was pouting.  
“Stop pouting.” Tonto added.  
“I'm not pouting.” John hissed angrily, clearly affronted. Tonto resisted the urge to roll his eyes and moved the boy's arm until the gun and the rock were lined up again. John aimed and shot. The unmarked rock mocked them both. Tonto threw his hands in the air, muttering in Comanche, and headed for the stream to cool off.  
John watched him go in silence.

000River Run000

Sitting neck deep in the stream, Tonto let the water wash away his anger. It was time honored practice of his, going so far back that he could remember his mother laughing at him as he sulked in the river after his sister had tied his hair to the lodge poles in his sleep. Per'na-pe'ta had always picked on him, almost from birth.  
Now, as the water pulled his evil thoughts from him and filled him with a sense of calm, he could see clearly that he was not teaching John correctly. The boy was young, easily discouraged, and prone to believing the worst about himself. Expecting him to take to the task as he did saving others would never work. First he must figure out a way to get John's inner strength involved.

000Snake Bite000

He was never doing this again. Ever. Why had he thought this was a good idea? Tonto stared helplessly at the rattlesnake, waiting for it to strike. At first it had seemed like a perfect idea. What did John do best? He saved people. Generally, Tonto did not need saving. He had lived on his own for years before he had met John and would continue to do so for years after they parted. So, without giving it much thought, Tonto decided that creating a rescue would be the best option. It hadn't taken him long to find a rattler and in no time he was calling for help, rousing John from his bed, and pretending to be stuck. That was, until he slipped and realized that he really was stuck.  
John had stared at him, horrified, for a moment and then whipped out his gun. One shot and the headless snake fell to the ground. Tonto stared at it in silence and then up at John. John was watching the snake twitch with a look of surprise on his face. He had clearly been expecting to miss.  
“Snake better than rock.” Tonto said, failing to keep a relieved smile off his face.  
John smiled back.

000Prison Blues000

The cell was cold and dark. The only heat in the room came from John's shoulder where it was pressed up against Tonto's own.  
“This was a bad idea.” John said as they both stared up into the gloom, flat on their backs.  
“Yes.” Tonto agreed, wondering why he stuck around when things like this seemed to be a regular occurrence. Outside the cell they could hear the outlaw leader barking orders. Apparently they were going to hang the two of them as soon as the sun was up. John wriggled and then went still.  
“How did this happen, again?” He asked to no one in particular. Tonto grunted.  
“You fell on me, Kee-mo-sah-bee.” Tonto said, still sore from the way John had crashed into him after slipping off the top of the mining tracks.  
“Oh,” said John. “I must have hit my head.”  
Tonto rolled his eyes, safe in the dark, and thought about moving away. No, he decided after a moment, it was too cold. There was a sudden soft clanging of metal and hands began feeling their way along his side. Startled, he realized John had managed to free himself and was trying to untie him. Rolling, he allowed John access to the knot of rope behind him. He grunted when John pressed on a particularly sensitive bruise on his arm.  
“Oops.” John muttered apologetically. Tonto wasn't ready to forgive him so he stayed silent. They escaped without another word.

000Mother's Milk000

Tonto could see his mother, watching him from the river, her eyes bloated and bleeding black trails of blood down her cheeks. Cha-na'woonit had been a beautiful woman but the abuse at the hands of the white men had stripped her of her dignity and left her to decay in the shallow riverbed. Tonto knew he was dreaming but that didn't lessen the accusation he could see in her dead eyes. Or the guilt he felt burning in his veins.  
“Mother.” He whispered, trying to move his frozen limbs. He desperately wanted to pull her out of the water and onto the bank.  
'Tonto'  
Fool.  
He shuddered and felt ice creep into his bones.  
“Tonto.” Tonto opened his eyes and blinked at John who was watching him from the other side of the fire. “You alright?” The younger man asked. He didn't ask what Tonto had been dreaming of. He didn't try to comfort him or give him meaningless words. He simply smiled kindly and rolled back over. Tonto stared at the stars and then sat up. He wouldn't be sleeping tonight but that was strangely fine. He wasn't alone anymore.

000Party Time000

“Bufflo.” Tonto tried again. “Bufflo Trace.” He sounded the words out and ran his fingers along the letters on the side of the bottle. John grinned from where he was tying up the last of the outlaws slumped on the floor.  
“What?” He asked, knowing very well what Tonto was doing. Tonto huffed and held up the bottle so John could see it too.  
“Bufflo Trace Whisskey.” John was now beaming. You'd have thought he'd just bedded three whores from the way his grin reached around his face. Not that John would know what to do with a whore, never mind three.  
“Sounds good.” Tonto's eyebrows hit his hairline. John laughed and took the bottle from him, filling up the only two unbroken cups on the bar. “This calls for celebration, don't you think?” He handed the bourbon whiskey to Tonto and held up his own glass.  
Suddenly feeling unsure of himself, Tonto hesitantly tapped the glasses and they took a sip together.  
“Congratulations.”

000Best Friends000

Tonto waited outside the house, bored. He could see the shadows of John and Rebecca inside the living room of the ranch house, neither touching but dancing around each other like a game.  
“Stupid Kee-mo-sah-bee.” He muttered, turning away to look at Silver and Scout munching away at the hay Rebecca had provided for them. “Stupid horse.”  
“Mama says it ain't polite to call people stupid.” Said a young voice at his elbow.  
Not entirely startled, he had seen the boy sneak out of his window earlier, Tonto glared at the child.  
“Horse not people.” The boy didn't look impressed with this bit of logic. He clambered up onto the fence next to Tonto and kicked his legs. They both stared up at the night sky in silence.  
“Are you and Uncle John friends?” The boy asked after a moment. Tonto frowned.  
“No.” The child looked surprised.  
“Then why are ya'll always riding together?” Tonto wished the kid was still young enough to be scared of him and wondered when his face paint had stopped intimidating John's nephew. He let the silence stretch without answering and predictably the boy started fidgeting.  
“Stop.” Tonto snapped, placing a hand on the boy's head to keep him still. The child stopped, staring up at him from beneath the large hand.  
“I think you are friends.” He said, his voice daring Tonto to disagree. “No one would spend so much time together if they weren't.” Tonto glared.  
“Not friends.”  
“Then why are you waiting out here in the dark?” The boy challenged. Tonto had nothing to say to this. He let his hand drop. There was another stretch of silence and then,  
“Can I touch your bird?”

000Feed Me000

“Pie?”  
Tonto grunted and ignored Rebecca. If it wasn't the child with his endless questions, it was the mother with her endless offers of food. What was it with females and feeding? She had already loaded John's plate so high Tonto was genuinely worried he'd have to carry the young man out of the house.  
“Are you sure? It's blueberry.” Rebecca continued, undaunted by his snarls. Her son came by his talent honestly. He glared at her, crossed his arms, and pretended to go to sleep. He could almost feel John frowning at him from the other side of the room.  
“Don't mind him, Rebecca. He's just sore that we couldn't leave last night and now the rain's too heavy to ride.” Rebecca laughed, finally setting the plate down.  
“I'm sorry I asked you to help me with the fence. I didn't realize you had somewhere to be.” John laughed with her and murmured something too low for Tonto to hear. The Comanche opened one eye and studied the couple. John had his hand on Rebecca's hip and finally seemed comfortable enough to place a kiss on her lips as they talked. Tonto turned away to give them privacy. His smile was bittersweet.

000Chicken Soup000

Hot. Everything was hot. Tonto felt like he was burning from the inside out. He opened his eyes and groaned at the bright light of the fire. Cool hands touched his temples and something cold and wet made its way down his throat. He coughed and tried to focus on the face above him but couldn't make out any features.  
“Ka-cha't.” Tonto murmured, trying to blink away the fog. “ʉnʉ hakai nahniaka.” He closed his eyes and panted from the effort to stay awake. He couldn't remember anything before the burning. It was as if he had been born in the fire and would die in it. The cool fingers returned, placing what felt like freezing ice on his face. He opened his eyes again and found he could finally see the other person.  
“John.”  
Disoriented, Tonto tried to move his hands but only managed to throw the wet cloth off his forehead. “ʉnha hina nikwai?” Was it John making him feel this pain? Was he getting revenge? Tonto's head felt like it was swimming. He could hear John speaking but couldn't understand the words. After a second of struggling to sit up, Tonto slipped back into the dark.

000Sweet Summer000

Red would never admit it but she liked Tonto and Tonto knew it. Not that he'd ever tell her he knew, but somehow mutual silence worked for both of them. Sometimes when John felt the urge to see Rebecca again, Tonto would slip away to find Red and a little company of his own. Red wasn't exactly young anymore and if the older, world-weary man wanted to spend a few hours in her arms, she wasn't going to say no. And if privately she thought his bird was a little creepy and privately he thought her hair was too bright, they never said a word.  
Sometimes silence was the best comfort you could offer a body.

000Brains and Brawn000

“I knew it!” John shouted, furious. “You've gotten us lost! Again!” Tonto ignored John's squawking and concentrated on trying to pick up the trail from where it had become muddled. “This is the dead horse all over again.”  
“Tracks.” Tonto stated, still running his hand over the ground. John huffed.  
“Yes, yes. I remember. The horse died and you still found the tracks. So maybe this isn't the same, but we are definitely lost.”  
“Tracks.” Tonto said again, wandering farther away from the horses.  
“I know!” Said John irritably, caught up in his rant. “There were tracks and now they're gone. I knew we should've stopped and asked those trappers for directions.”  
Tonto, watched him from a small hill some distance away. Rolling his eyes, he waited for the ranger to figure out that Tonto had picked up the trail again. Sometimes he wondered if he was the brains of this partnership and was unsure on whether that should worry him or not.  
He'd figure it out eventually.

000Birdy Bye000

It was hard to snub John when he was determine to be seen but Tonto managed most of the time. It helped when he was absolutely furious with the younger man. This was one of those times.  
“I'm sorry about your bird.” John said quietly, his eyes brimming with apologies. Tonto ignored this comment to focus on fixing Pécui's neck, which John had accidentally broken when he had shot a bullet through it. Tonto wasn't sure if that counted as an 'accident' but John was firm that he hadn't meant to hurt the crow. It was an easy fix despite the loss of feathers from the small bird's chest and suddenly Tonto felt his anger drain away. Pécui liked John and had no hard feelings over the mistake so why should he? He could almost see a smile on the crow's face. Tonto lifted him up and settled him back on his head. A little bit of feed and he'd be fine.

000Rose Sweet000

“Kemosabe.”  
“Kee-mo-sah-bee.”  
“What does it mean because I don't believe you when you say it means 'wrong brother'.”  
“Idiot.”  
“It does not.”  
Tonto looked pained and sent a pleading gaze skyward.  
“Is that even Comanche?”  
Tonto paused in his pleading and turned to look back at his partner. How had he guessed that?  
“No. Potawatomi.”  
“Potawatomi? Aren't they from up north?”  
Tonto hummed in agreement. “Far north. Spent some time there as a boy.” Tonto thought about the snow and ice and the desperation that had sent him to his mother's tribe. “Cold.”  
“So kemosobe is Potawatomi for what, exactly?”  
“Que no sabe.”  
“I speak Spanish, you know. I know what that means.”  
“Fine. It means 'faithful scout'. Now shut up.” Tonto wished white people would teach their children to be silent. Perhaps it would have made John a little less talkative. They rode in blissful silence for almost an hour before John felt the urge to talk again.  
“Is 'tonto' Potawatomi, as well?” John asked, his voice a little odd. Tonto had a bad feeling he knew where John was headed with this new question.  
“Yes. Means 'wild one'.” He hoped that would be enough to stem the conversation but it seemed luck was not on his side today.  
“You do know that Tonto in Spanish means-”  
“Yes, Kee-mo-sah-bee. I know.”

000Good Death000

John was trapped beneath the rocks and Tonto knew he wouldn't be able to pull him out, not this time.  
“Leave without me.” John said, coughing at the dust in his lungs, the pain in his leg, and the blood pouring out of his nose. “The tunnel won't collapse just yet and you've got enough time to get out.” Tonto wished John would just shut up so he could think and then the boy really went quiet, sending the older man into a desperate scramble to hear if he was still breathing. The slow in and out of air told him John wasn't gone yet but the situation was dire. They had been through so much but somehow Tonto could not think of one thing to save his friend. The rocks rumbled overhead in warning and Tonto saw that he had two decisions before him. Leave and live alone... or die with his tami. The choice was made before Tonto even finished thinking about it. Settling in for the end, he made himself comfortable in the dirt and waited for the rocks to fall. There was a growl of rock on rock and then the light disappeared. Tonto closed his eyes. Today was a good day to die.

000Staying Alive000

“Tonto.” The voice made him look up despite the complete blackness.  
“Kee-mo-sah-bee?” He asked, just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. For all he knew, it was his mother's spirit here to drag his soul out of the rocks. Though, he was fairly sure his mother had never sounded that masculine.  
“Why-” There was some coughing. “Why did you stay?” John asked from somewhere in the darkness. Tonto was honestly not sure how to answer this without sounding pathetic. He had expected them both to be dead by now and yet here they were, still very much alive. Tonto wondered how much of that was John's spirit walker gift and how much was dumb luck. Sometimes he felt all they had was the second.  
“I-” Tonto choked. How was he supposed to explain something that had become as important as breathing to him. Action was obviously a better answer than any words he could use. Without finishing his sentence, he began to dig into the rocks. Mindful of his friend on the other side and the rocks piled high above them, he made a hole big enough to place his hand.

“Yanny-va-too'ah, Kee-mo-sah-bee... John.” Tonto said, his voice thick. Stupid dust, Tonto thought to himself. On the other side of the rocks, he could feel John grasp his hand, though the ranger was weaker than normal. He wondered if this was to be their funeral. How apt that they would be buried under stones and no one would need to carry them away. A memory of his grandfather rose suddenly in his mind, leaving him cold. Tonto shook away the dark thoughts and concentrated on his friend. “There is no one I would rather ride with.” In the dark, John coughed and tightened his grip.  
“To the end, then?” He asked, sounding young. Tonto nodded though he knew John couldn't see him. “...you really are an idiot.”

000Tight Bonds000

Embarrassed, they had stopped holding hands about ten seconds out of their heart to heart but as Tonto listened as John got quieter he wished they had stayed together. It would have made it easier to know when John finally stopped breathing. Just as he was wonder who would go first, a scratching noise made him sit up and listen intently. The sound came again. After a moment, light pierced the darkness, sending shards of pain into Tonto's sensitive eyes. There was a snorting and then Silver's muzzle appearing in the opening. The horse pulled back and replaced it with an eye, glaring at Tonto with almost human like exasperation. Tonto, feeling hysteria creeping up his spine, laughed himself hoarse.  
“What?” Mumbled John from the cave in. Snapping out of his daze, Tonto started to help Silver push away the dirt and rock until there was a wide opening for the two of them to start pulling away the rocks holding John prisoner. It took them until the sun went down but finally, mercifully, they were able to slid him out into the open. Bruised, bloody, and probably nursing at least two broken bones, John lay at Tonto's feet simply breathing in the fresh air. After a deep breath, John opened his eyes and smiled up at Tonto who was manfully trying to not look missish as he checked for wounds.  
“Me too.” Said John, grinning. Tonto paused, confused.  
“What?” He asked, suddenly worried John had hit his head. He felt around John's skull but couldn't find anything unusual. John used his good arm to grab Tonto's arm and his attention.  
“There's no one I'd rather ride with than you.”  
Tonto told himself that tears could be masculine.

000ooo000

THE END

 

Translations:

Tuinéhpua: Comanche for 'boy'.

Pécui: Comanche for 'fish'. What I've named the crow in my head canon.

Kee-mo-sah-bee: Potawatomi for 'Faithful Scout'.

Cha-na'woonit: Comanche for 'beautiful one'. Tonto's mother in my head canon.

Per'na-pe'ta: Comanche for 'only daughter'. Tonto's sister in my head canon.

Ka-cha't. ʉnʉ hakai nahniaka. ʉnha hina nikwai: Comanche. 'No good. Who are you? What do you want?'

Tonto: Potawatomi for 'wild one'. Spanish for 'fool'.

Que no sabe: Spanish for 'clueless one'.

Yanny-va-too'ah: Comanche for 'laughing child'.

**Author's Note:**

> I've tried to keep the story as accurate as possible with allowances for both the TV show and the movie, which this story is based on. I do not speak Comanche and had to look up all translations, so if you have anything to correct, please do so. I would love to have everything be realistic. The name of the piece is Pah'choko-to'vt, which in Comanche means 'black otter'. In my head canon, this was Tonto's name before he accidentally betrayed his tribe and was forced to survive on his own. I thought it fit him as a child. Please review if you have any comments or would just like to talk about the movie, I love hearing feedback.


End file.
